Haunted Castle/Issue 1
This is issue 1 of Haunted Castle. It is titled "Crimson Rust on the Railing". It introduces guests Thomas Dubois, Martineya Hyunji, Claude Kelly, and Flake to the story. Crimson Rust on the Railing Rotating. Too much of it. The rails are filled with it. Sparks flying, rust intensifying. Too strong a shade of crimson perhaps, but too expected of such a living relic. A mystical forest wraps it all up in quite a dense package, perhaps too dense for the human perception. The sounds are a special kind of screech, electricity produced only by the product of man's intellect. Wherever this structure is headed, the mist doesn't reveal what it carries, just that it moves and traverses in the single lone wayward. Screeching and rust. Screeching and rust. Screeching and rust. Crimson rust. The passengers, if any, were there any? Maybe, just one. Shifting right on his seat, sweating, in spite of the freezing cold that looms around him. A drop of sweat rolls down to his eyeball. It is heavy and that is enough to strike the eyelids, the poor man's defense. Too late to keep them closed now. His eyes open, a lush green valley. He is groggy, this young man. Not a day over 25, for certain. Out of all the seats in the immediate carriage, he is the only being present. It gives him a rather ominous feeling, especially because he does not recall the moment he boarded the train, if any. He just is. Present that is. He aspires not to be the only one aboard. The eerie atmosphere and his lack of memory are the only things that really bother him, the view of the woodland scenery is far too easy on his eyes. Thomas DuBois, that is his name. At least that he remembers. His seat welcomes his bum and isn't rough on his elbows. Continuing to sit is the last thing he wants to keep doing, having that dreadful, ominous feeling, itching to escape the back of his mind. Thomas, not Tom for short, Thomas, has too many questions, yet somehow he knows answers are the one thing he will not find in this very situation. Leslie, that rather flashy and obnoxious redhead, and that blond man, the exchange student from Denmark, Palle, were the last he thing he remembers seeing. Fleeing they were, from some untold monstrosity that had struck his home of The Netherlands and ravaged his university campus. If there were anything positive from his current situation, it would have to be no longer making up for that fraud he committed. His sixth sense could tell him something else would cause him trouble now though, and maybe staying still in the eeriest train known to man wasn't the best idea. Thomas relaxes his thoughts a little, breathes in and out. He must find someone else, just like he found Leslie and Palle. "Hello? Is anybody around? Hello?" His voices earns him no reply, and showers him with no other sign of life. It only earns him a sigh. When his bum finally parts ways with heaven, his sense go to work. Cautious steps. No haste. He must move at once. Maintaining himself static won't do him any good. He takes a step, heavy with worry, but just as heavy with intention. A trailblazer he felt like, the sounds of his feet hitting the metallic ground below his feet reassured him. A rusty, crimson shade of metal. No time to identify the kind either. Distrust of his surroundings is pure instinct. All the rows of seats twinkle in Thomas' eyes, as if a virgin had cared to keep their state. Getting past the crimson shade, it really was a nice train. Here he is observing again, he must move. The next target is the door, standing tall and calling out to him. No strange noise could be heard, just the rotating of the train's wheels. That demonic screeching sound. The only thing entering his ears at the moment. He grasps the doorknob, precautions to the mysteries behind the door. Thomas takes a deep breath and opens it. He finds himself in the same room yet again, as it looks damn near identical. Thomas is keen on sticking to his routine, keep moving, don't stop, no answers will be given anyway. He grips the next doorknob, and enters the next carriage. He knows he certainly isn't entering the same room time and time again, because a glass bottle, formerly filled with some sort of soft drink, lies on the middle of the ground. If push comes to shove, it could be a handy little weapon, and he is scarce in those for sure. It feels heavy enough to him, enough to at least stun something, whatever decides to come at him. Nevertheless, he grips the next doorknob, and the next, and the next... After about five carriages, Thomas is at another doorknob, which he grasps again. This one he is reluctant to turn, because he can finally hear something other than the screeching of the wheels. A ceiling fan perhaps, yet Thomas stops. He swears he can hear some shifting, finally a sign of life other than he. He doesn't think for a moment and just turns the knob, but doesn't pull the door back. This was a mistake. He never stopped to think about what the other being can end up being, as the ominous atmosphere is still present. Surely, now it was too late, as whatever lurks on the other side of the door knows of Thomas' presence. In a moment of pure anxiety, Thomas grips his glass bottle and enters the next room. Bang. He didn't see it coming. His panting won't stop, can't stop. A fresh bullet hole, just inches above his head. Smoke still fresh, smell even fresher. Thomas is paralyzed on the spot, looking at the source of the bullet. He's not terrified, rather mesmerized at the beauty. This only lasts a split second as the expression on his face changes. A woman, intimidating physique, decent height, but not taller than Thomas, points her handgun right at him. Any sudden movements and he is sure the next bullet hole will be right on him. The woman's facial expression more than reaffirms this for him. "I won't say it again, who the hell are you." she speaks, apparently for the second time. Thomas blocked out the first time she spoke to him. He is going to make sure there isn't a third. "My name- the names- I'm Thomas. DuBois. Thomas DuBois, please don't shoot." Could've come out much better, but we'll talk when a femme Fatale is pointing a firearm at you. "Yeah, I knew you couldn't hurt me anyway." She lowers her gun and Thomas breathes in relief. He feels like that was enough adrenaline for a lifetime, but that can't be the last he has in reserve, for his sake. "Are you going to keep sitting on your ass, or are you going to stand up? I'll shoot you if you keep wasting my time." The woman makes herself very clear. Thomas gets up in a heartbeat. "No need for that, I hope. I can't exactly hurt you, so why would you need to shoot." Thomas retorts. The rudeness of the woman reminded him of Leslie. "Fine, don't get your panties twisted. I won't bite. I don't like being alone where I'm at anyway. What the hell is this place?" "I don't know, I'm as lost as you are. I don't even know how I got here." "Well shit, kid. We're in a fucked up situation." There's a bit of a pause between both until Thomas decides to break it with a simple question. "Can I know what your name is?" "It's Claude, Claude Kelly. Pretty easy to remember." Thomas is surprised, as he thought that "Claude" is a boy's name, and he'd rather not comment back on that insult to his intelligence, but he doesn't quite know what this woman is capable of. "Well, Claude. I think we should keep moving, before something else comes out of that door." "Yeah, no shit. I'm not counting on another little pup to come out of there." Claude replies, Thomas puts up with it. The woman is strong for sure. He can tell. He'd rather stay on her good side. "Uh, good that's established. Care to take the lead?" Thomas asks. Claude moves past Thomas, right in mid-sentence. I guess I didn't have to ask. ---- Kim Hsu Kwon, my love. I just can't wait for us to be together. Martineya, neither can I. But we are condemned. Our relationship will bring upon bloodshed. I need to love you, but not like this. Kim, I-- please don't say stuff like that. We will be together because I want us to. I control everything in this world. It is mine, and so are you. Oh Neya, loving you will make my heart ageless, like our love. I will shower you with a kiss... Oh...okay. I--'' Screech. Back to reality. She sits in some sort of throne? No, this is just a seat, and she has no idea what she gazes at. Levers, buttons, all unknown. Nothing she wants to mess with. She is sure that this is not her sofa, where she last remembers falling asleep, with her laptop, a magical place for her hanguk deuramas, or Korean dramas, to inhabit. Martineya Hyunji, perhaps misplaced in her current world, perhaps not. Right now her hatred for reality disturbs her, as that lucid dream was to her liking. The protagonist of the drama she fell asleep watching, Kim Hsu Kwon, was nearly about to kiss her. Neya can dream, she really can. Kim deserves better than Hyuna in her eyes, his love interest in the tale. Hyuna is what many would refer to as a devil woman, completely unfit for Kim, which was the whole plot of the drama. Neya believes she is a much better fit for the fictional heartthrob, which resulted in her dream. What a dream it was. Yet the dream is shoved aside, out of her head. Yasmin Marie Collins, her best friend and roommate, isn't around. Neither is the laptop supposedly on her lap, and neither are the sweat pants and the tank top she fell asleep with, instead they're both replaced by a red and black gothic Lolita dress, not her style whatsoever. In fact, she isn't even in Bellforde anymore. Neya panics, as she sits in the captain's chair, which right now appears to be Neya. Neya has no idea how to drive a car, let alone pilot a train. This is certainly a situation she doesn't want to be in. Yet, she at least looks ahead and the woods occupy the stormy scenery. The crimson theme of the vehicle in question also sends a chill down her spine, along with that infernal screeching. Despite being terrified for her life, Neya can't seem to move and investigate, let alone move a lip and call out to someone. Death is an option she could forced to for all she knows. Perhaps waiting to see this train's destination would be best, and find other people who might have answers to what is going on. Just hearing anything besides the horrible screeching will suffice. It hasn't even begun to rain yet. However, Neya recalls that she is still unable to pilot a train and she doesn't feel confident that adrenaline will flow through her when fate calls to stop the train. She'll just crash, burn, and die. Another terrifying thought which keeps Neya at bay. Neya has two options at this point, do her best to stop the train when the time comes or go find help from somebody, anybody, in the train. The mysterious factor of her current circumstances didn't make the latter very desirable in comparison, if her gut feeling and the chill down her spine have anything to say about it. Maybe to stop the train all she needs to do is pull on that lever, she really isn't sure where to start. Hopefully she just has enough time to figure it all out. The screeching noise the rotating of the wheels on the railing made is just infernal, to the point where a river of blood wants to flow out of Neya's ears. Hearing any other thing would be bliss. Bliss is something she needs. Though, always be careful what you wish for. Something loud collides with the other side of her door, Neya's heart nearly gives in. The loud vibrations just made the chill in her spine all the more potent. She thought she was scared, until now. But it goes on again, and again. The door finally seems to be giving in, and Neya's adrenaline gets pumping, and if she is lucky, it will burst out of her chest. There's another bang, and another. Until finally, the last bang splits the door, revealing an axe. An axe of all things. Colliding with the door. Things could not be going any better for her. The door comes down when the top of the axe collides with it, causing Neya to cower on her seat, instinctively covering her mouth with her hand so as to not scream. The screeching of the wheels has long stopped bothering her. What bothers her now is the man that enters the room, still not noticing her. He is slightly covered in blood, as is his axe. Yet, when Neya looks at his face, she is captivated. The man is damn gorgeous, enough to make any Bellforde heartthrob jealous, even the likes of Leo. That still isn't a reason to keep her guard down. Who knows what this man is, friend or foe. When he finally turns to the side and spots her, a million thoughts race through Neya's head. One of the million being that this is some sort of knight coming to her rescue. His blue eyes and dirty blond hair almost took attention away from his crazy appearance. Almost. "You don't have to be scared. I'm not going to hurt you." The man says to Neya, waiting for a response. "I don't think you're going to hurt me either". "Uh, yeah. I'm not. I can't, I wouldn't even know how." Neya is distracted as to why this man wears a suit and she is stuck with the tasteless Lolita dress. "Then would you mind telling me your name, miss? I'll start with mine, I'm Flake." Even his name was cute. "My name's Neya. Short for Martineya. I'm lost." She responds. "You're not the only one, Neya." He smiles, slightly causing Neya to blush, a blush she does not show. "Why are you covered in blood? And why did you break the door down? That's way scary." Neya asks. "Because, as far as I knew, I was the only one here and nothing made a sound when I knocked the first time. The whole damn train is empty. I feel exhausted thinking about all that I didn't search." One thing was for certain, the train was huge. "As for the blood, I ran into some trouble, but I took care of it." He urges Neya to get up and peek at the hall, which she does after a bit of reluctance. A corpse, that of a ghoul like creature, blue and rough. Its chest, hacked apart, presumably by Flake's axe. Neya is frozen in place. "I don't know what else there could be on board with us, so hacking away at everything is the only safe thing I ''can do." "That's a ghoul. Those things don't exist. What's it doing here?" "We're in some fucked up place, that I know." Flake has seen and fought the likes of reanimated corpses before, but ghouls were a completely new experience for him. "This is unbelievable..." Neya says. Just where am I? "Whatever, I'm happy I found somebody else. Not more of these "ghoul" shits." Flake retorts, spitting at the corpse. Neya is still in disbelief, registering everything around her. "Yeah, I'm glad too..." There's a bit of silence as both think of what to make of the situation. "We should keep looking, Neya. Stay behind me. I'll keep you safe." Words Flake hopes Neya will trust, and words Neya wants to trust. "Yeah, let's do that...we are low on choices to make." Flake nods to her and begins walking back away from the control room, all the while the chill on Neya's spine goes a tiny bit frantic. ---- Steps. Half of them mighty, the other half cautious. An odd couple, a complete mismatch. The figurehead and the dunce. Brought together by freaky ass magic shit. Claude really does feel like the figurehead. Thomas has yet to leave an impression on her. Though, it's not like she has anybody else to turn to, fate brought them together in a macabre game of soul hunting. The last thing Claude remembers is exercise, the morning routine for all soldiers in Miami. Ever since that day, that man, Jack Hayter, a super soldier as far as she thought, gave her the ass whooping that was coming to her, Claude decided to listen to the man, train under him. It is slowly paying off and making things less boring for her around Miami. The man knew things other so called "superiors" didn't. Much more was to the man than met the eye. One thing Claude can admit, she hasn't had so much thrill since the Miami Cup a few days back. That damn race that she almost won had she not crashed and burned, letting her fire out on one crucial turn. Some gangbanger ended up winning in her place. Jacen, or Jason, who cares what his name is. This is no Miami Cup yet, but boring it is not. The screeching fuels Claude's excitement further. She is ready to take something out. This is who she is, a woman of flames. A loner, an amazon, not your average skirt. Many people in Miami bleed green, the puppet masters, pulling their strings, maneuvering the play to their heart's content. Claude is different, deep red blood is the only thing lying below her titanium skin. So if Thomas decides to make a wrong move, that will be the last move Thomas will ever make. Waking up wearing her army boots and pants, as well as her strained gray tank top, with even a piece included, it is clear that Claude has been brought here to fight, unlike Tommy and his little friend the glass bottle. Thomas is still rather skeptical and shakes rather noticeably. Any display of virility is gone and cowardice takes effect. The monstrosities of the university campus don't beat the unknown element. Claude is too inclined for this sort of task, as Thomas can tell. The military woman doesn't sleep. No chivalry can be given to her, he thinks. Lost in these thoughts, Thomas dare peek out the window. The vast woods still deserve his praise, but Thomas never did like the woods much. On this occasion, they were the least terrifying thing. For once. Or perhaps he spoke too soon. He can feel Claude's heavy stare on him so he turns back to see, but finds her staring forward. Gun at the ready. Thomas was always on the personal defensive. The woods regain his attention, but as soon as they do, Thomas is shocked. A pair of glowing red eyes watch him, him specifically. Claude is not in range. Thomas blinks, make sure they are really there. They are, causing him to stagger and stumble back. This alerts Claude, who turns back, only to see Thomas back on his ass. "What the hell got into you?" Claude remarks. Thomas gets up, shakes himself off, looks back at the woods. Nothing. "I just lost my balance and fell." "Riiiight on your ass at that. Try not to shit your pants when we find something worth fighting." Thomas is left a dunce before the dangerous woman once again. He cannot wait to return home. ---- Nervous wreck. Thomas isn't the only one at the moment. Neya is here too, still not sure what to make of the situation. Flake keeps a cool and stands tall, like a true knight. There's a twinkle of insanity in the man's eyes which Neya could notice. As much as she wants to trust the man, Neya cannot. The death grip on his axe drips righteousness, but the package is too neat to believe. Neya has seen enough horror movies to know that. Right now, she and "Flake", were the stars. The man behind the axe is whole other story. The axe is no sword, not like he is used to, as an axe is a tool, not a blade, a proper weapon. Flake's heart beats for weapons, the greatest allies in the apocalypse. Humans are only allies to a point, but there were notable exceptions. His camp used to be sizeable, but now there's not much left at all. It is no longer a camp without Flake on the mantle. His last memory, surviving in the woods with those few allies, who accepted him...despite the shortcomings. Robbie, Sally, Katie, and those few others. Robbie especially, he is the one Flake is closest too. Robbie was weak but all that weakness he made up with loyalty and heart. Flake really hopes he's safe. These horrors and the situation as a whole don't phase Flake. Flake was raised in ferocity, monstrosity has always been a part of his life. Before the flesh eating revenants, there were always people, the worst kind of monsters. Took one to know one. Flake only hopes to return to those few allies he has, or die trying. The power he had over them, also to be missed. Not for life. He will regain it. Neya has spent the last few minutes trying to maintain her breath mild, relaxed. Neya, it's almost as if your rudimentary life, one free from the horrors of the undead apocalypse, is really working against you. Flake could chop your head off, Claude could do much worse. A pampered purse dog, you are, in comparison. Try not to mess up. "I've got a bad feeling...my gut is sure." She whispers to herself. Flake could hear it. "People. We just need to find more people. Stay focused okay?" Flake retorts. Easier said than done. "It's like you're used to all of this Fla--" another heartbeat is skipped, as a hand, demonic, grabs her heel and pulls. Neya screams but with nothing to hang on to, the hand pulls. Flake is alerted by the scream. "What the he--" he sees a bad sight, the last carriage door, a hand, pulling Neya back with its might. Flake spends no time thinking. He races, the death grip, and swings it down. Blood oozes from the stump, and Flake helps the lady up. Growling penetrates the room, and you'd be a fool to stay and find out what did growl. "Run like the fucking wind, now!" Flake yells, Neya doesn't respond and heeds. A large demon breaks the door down and gives chase to the black knight and the maiden. ---- More traveling aboard, tap tap. Apart from Thomas' scare a few minutes ago, it all remains the same. The tension between Thomas and Claude is clear. She doesn't like him, but the friendly type archetype does not pertain her. The clueless Thomas doesn't know that though, making this serious for him. Always thinking the world is out to get him. Well, he keeps it up, and it just might. Claude focuses little on Thomas, having already accepted her temporary partnership with him. It was still every man for himself though, and Claude herself comes first. Thomas the doubter, still before Claude. A half hour he met this woman, and a half hour he does his doubting. Continuously. Thomas is afraid to bite back, as Claude has thrown more than her fair share of insults at him. Thomas almost always bit back, even with Leslie. Leslie was friendly, as far as he could tell. Claude has not radiated anything of the sort. In that moment, Thomas felt the audacity to doubt his fear, and finally attack. "How come someone as old as you is still a soldier? Don't people return to being civilians before they're in their mid 30's or something?" That finally got Claude's attention. She is in awe, insulted her essence in one lip of dialogue. Even her age. Claude's young days have since left her behind but she always liked to believe that her looks hadn't. Claude, you can't always be right. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Get mouthy with me and I'll drop your ass again. I'll make sure it stays down this time." "Yes, that would be a genius move. Kill your only ally in bus full of monsters. You're Wonder Woman in your own head, and you call me stupid." Thomas isn't backing down. Claude has to acknowledge that his words ring some sort of truth, but like the depths of hell she will show it. "Did I fucking stutter? They call me Fox back in my base kid. You don't earn a name like that on pure fucking lip." "What? They don't give all their nicknames to smart people?" Thomas really was crossing the line, but Claude really knew how to bring out the best in people. "Fucking forget it. I'm not wasting my energy or a bullet on your ass. Let's keep moving, before I change my mind." Claude is amazed at two things, the fact that she just held herself back and the fact that Tommy here does in fact posses a pair of balls. Clank. Clank. "What the hell was that?" Claude says. Something moves a top of the train, quite obviously the challenge Claude looks for. "We talked too much. Shoot." Thomas remarks. The window besides Claude breaks, sending many shards towards her. Claude's reflexes are ace, blocking them from most of her face. The monstrosity in question is quite the oddity. A large, centipede-like demon with the head of a hag but the mouth of an ant. It's big red eyes makes Thomas sweat, invoking the familiarity. Thomas breaks to a sprint, near Claude. "Are you okay? We have to go!" He demands, but Claude isn't ready to back down. Finally, a challenge presents itself. "Fuck that. I have bullets made for this fucking thing." She retorts. "Are you kidding me? That thing is gigantic. We can't face that with a handgun." Thomas says and he runs. Claude stays behind, but misses her shot due to proximity. The pincers graze her flesh and she finally decides to take Thomas' advice. Sprinting is what they do. Gone with the rust. ---- Flake and Neya maintain their cardio, but the more her lungs works, the closer she feels to a heart attack. Flake begins pulling Neya along when he notices her slowing down. He hopes this act of kindness will finally earn him Neya's trust. It doesn't go unnoticed. The large demon swings his mace, destroying walls with one swing from its good left arm. Flake made the right choice that time. They finally begin to outspeed the massive demon and leave him a few carriages behind. Neya tries to stop but Flake tugs her. "If you stop to take a breath now, it will be your last." With his manic eyes, Neya has to comply. The demon would catch her, but which? Their dash leads them to a door, one they open with ease. Surprisingly enough, contact happens. Flake and Neya stop dead in their tracks when an unknown woman draws on them, accompanied by a young man holding a glass bottle. The man didn't look threatening at all, but Flake stopped to respect the woman's wishes. That feral expression he finally sees worn on someone else's face. "Hey! Don't shoot us! We're not dangerous! Honest!" Neya pleads. "Get out of our way, before I blow you out." Claude threatens. "You don't want to go in that direction. A big boy is coming." Flake smiles. "Well it just so happens another big boy is coming that way." Thomas butts in. Neya turns horrified. "You mean we're trapped?" Her adrenaline pumps once again. "Looks like it. We're going to have to fight it, Tommy." Thomas frowns. Claude is right. "Look, the thing coming for us is long and gigantic. Slower though. What about--" he is interrupted mid-sentence when the demon from earlier shows up, accompanied now by a little goblin...the the mask of a serial killer. Claude thought fast. "I'm taking that thing down." She affirms, shooting at the demon. Claude gets him in his good arm, causing him to drop the mace. Neya, Flake, and Thomas roll the heavy mace over to the other door, and Flake proceeds to place his axe in between the door's handles. Barricading the hag centipede is too important. The demon was massive, about a 2 feet taller than Claude. Claude didn't know the word fear and simply went for it. The one-armed demon swings, but Claude ducks. She strikes her opponents stomach with her elbow and then proceeds pistol whips the demon's jaw while it staggers from the previous blow. Claude then slams her right foot into the fallen creature's face, causing it to squirm in pain. With one arm gone and no weapon, the demon was actually fearing against Claude. Claude kept on kicking the demon in the face until she was sure enough blood caked it. It twitched, so Claude gives him one more stomp with those mighty boots. Neya saw it all, shocked. Claude fucking Kelly had just killed a demon with her bare hands. As Neya is amazed, the hidden goblin latches on to her back, clawing at her shoulder blades. Neya screams in pain as the claws are about to penetrate her. "AHHH! GET IT OFF OF ME." Neya screams for help. Thomas acts fast and smashes his glass bottle against the goblin's head, causing it to bleed. He proceeds to stab the leftover shard into its head, sloppily so, which earns him a deep cut. He winces in pain before grabbing the small ghoul. As this all goes on, Flake pushes against the other door, assessing his "allies". Claude smashes a window her with elbow and Thomas proceeds to hurl the small monster out of the train window. He sticks his head out, and what he sees up ahead sends his body into full alert. "The railroad is ending, I repeat, the railroad is ending! We have to jump! Now!" Thomas yells. Claude's civil soldier instincts kick in and she grabs the wounded Neya. Grabbing on to her, the two of them jump out of the train. Claude tries to roll and stick the landing, but finds herself absorbing the impact of the fall for Neya. "Aagghh!" she cries out in pain. Thomas is about to follow suit, but looks at Flake, still at the barricade. The hag centipede had been banging relentlessly for about a minute now. Flake didn't have to use much force, as the mace and axe held it back for most. The problem was that now, removing the axe would get him trampled. Thomas sees this and against his better judgement, helps him remove the axe and Flake proceeds to throw it out another window, shattering it completely. Thomas and Flake proceed to jump out before the hag centipede falls into the abyss, along with the rest of the train. Thomas and Flake barely made it out alive. Damn, were they going to be soar. Flake has at least managed to keep the axe. ---- Both men catch up to Claude and Neya soon enough, resting by a tree. Claude has probably broken a rib due to botching the fall, whereas Neya is in dire need of antibiotics to patch her wounds. Thomas has pretty much stopped the bleeding on his hand by wrapping a piece of his shirt around it. "Thank for saving me, uh..." Neya starts. "Claude, kid. Call me Claude." Saving this kid was the last thing Claude had in mind. Maybe Hayter's influence was taking effect on her after all. "Thank you Claude." Neya expresses. "Are you two going to make it?" Thomas asks, worried. Flake simply grits his teeth at their injuries. "That was a hell of a show, Claude. The name's Flake." He moves forward and stretches his hand out to Claude for a handshake. These sort of gestures were not part of Claude's minuscule social routine, but at this point she is too tired to object. "Flake, I'm uh, Thomas." "Nice to meet you, Thomas." Flake responds. Thomas immediately felt threatened by Flake's better looking and more intimidating physique. Flake easily caught on to this. "Well." Claude starts, getting back up on her feet, with a bit of limp. "Fuck if I'm staying put. I already learned my lesson." Thomas and the others did not object. Instead traveling with Claude. Claude could barely move, and Thomas spent the next 10 minutes arguing with her. She needed help walking and Claude gave in when the pain spread to other parts of her body. She let Thomas become bee crutch. While Neya could walk fine, her upper body ached due to the gashes. Neya realized she hadn't introduced herself to Thomas, and vice versa. After doing that, the foursome walking for what seemed like hours, until they finally arrived on some sort of property. A mighty castle, a beauty to behold. A short, cloaked man awaited for them in the entrance and the four of them approached. Luggage stands by the short man, which strikes a nerve in Claude, recognizing one of the bags to be her military sack. The others look just as surprised when they realize the rest of the luggage belongs to them. "What the hell is this about?" Claude yells. "All of my stuff? How?" Thomas follows. Flake simple scoffs. Yet Neya looks the most horrified. This is one vacation she didn't plan to have. "Welcome, guests. I've been expecting you. Please, follow me." the man greets. "Hey!" Claude calls out. "Just who the hell are you? What's all this bullshit?" The man is amused by Claude's words and simply chuckles. "You may refer to me as the Duke, I am the owner of this castle. Your brand new home." Neya was wrong earlier, as the horror movie is just about to begin. Trivia *This issue is dedicated to KP as a belated birthday present! ---- Category:Haunted Castle Category:Haunted Castle Issues Category:Issues Category:Pilots Category:PBR Sharpshoot Stories